


Those who slipped through the cracks

by Sylindara



Series: basketballpoetsociety Team Battle 2014 [14]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:58:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1855546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylindara/pseuds/Sylindara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone has to care about street kids getting intercised, even if it’s only another street kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those who slipped through the cracks

Takao isn’t one to stay depressed over anything. If you have the time to sulk, you have the time to do something about it. So, with positivity that would have surprised anyone else, the first thing Takao does after his daily meditation with the alethiometer gains him an unexpected nothing is to go to Ootsubo.

Ootsubo is a lot more understanding than Takao expected of someone who had just been told that their only way of find the truth behind the intercision incidents has just become a dead end, his badger demon allowing Manako to perch on her without a single twitch. But then, all three of them are very kind, more than Takao ever expected law enforcement to be towards a random street rat who suddenly comes up to them expecting them to care about the plight of other street rats. Anyone else would have dismissed him; what did it matter that street kids were turning up without their daemons and shuffling around like zombies? These three are the only law enforcement that would care. And isn’t that a depressing thought to contemplate.

Kimura and Miyaji are just as understanding when they come back from their shifts and hear the news. Though Miyaji gives a scoff, “Of course you can’t read it anymore. It was always too good to be true.”

Takao pouts at him; Manako makes a pass fearlessly at Miyaji’s terrier daemon, getting a snap for her troubles. “Miyaji-san doesn’t believe my alethiometer-reading abilities?”

“Not that.” Miyaji rolls his eyes at him. “Just that it was too lucky, that all our questions can be answered just like that. I’ve been doing investigations for years, it’s never this easy.”

“Do you know why you can’t read it anymore though?” Kimura asks considerately, his husky daemon reaching up to nose gently at Manako as she lands heavily on the back of Takao’s chair. “You’ve been reading it a lot recently, is it too much stress for you?”

Takao and Manako exchange a look. “No,” he admits grudgingly. “It’s like how I just knew instinctively what it was trying to say before even though I don’t know what any of the symbols mean or what some of them even are. Now I look at it and I know instinctively that I don’t understand it.”

“Completely useless now,” Manako whines. “You can’t even use it to line nests.”

“It’s not useless,” Ootsubo’s daemon rumbles from her place sprawled beside Ootsubo’s chair. “It’s a good opportunity.”

“Exactly,” Ootsubo adds. “This is the perfect chance to approach him.”

“Oh no,” Miyaji moans theatrically, sinking back into the couch cushions. “Not him, I can’t deal with that prissy bastard.”

Seeing Takao and Manako’s confusion, Kimura explains thoughtfully, “They’re talking about Midorima Shintarou. Have you heard about the Generation of Miracles? He’s one of them. He’s also one of the youngest professors to take tenure at the university, and his area of study is the alethiometer. If anyone knows how to read one, it’s him.”

“Ah.” Takao has heard of the Generation of Miracles. Five young men shrouded in myth and the impenetrable upper class. All a street rat like him would know is the creepy fact that all five of them have daemons of the same gender. Anything else is too big for the likes of him. “But would he be willing to help?”

“The only reason why he’s even coming up in this conversation is because he’s been making a fuss about the intercised street kids,” Miyaji tells him bluntly. “He obviously knows something, we’d never approached him with the information and I don’t think he even knows about our investigations. I’d rather we never have to deal with him though. I’ve met him once at one of those hobnobbing parties; never again.”

“But we need to,” Ootsubo says sternly. “It’s better to work together and pool our resources. And faster too.”

Ootsubo always move quickly after a decision’s been made, Takao is starting to find. Hence why he is here at one of the hobnobbing parties that Miyaji hates so much the very next day. Takao doesn’t really need to be here, or so he had tried to argue, but Ootsubo was adamant. You are the one with the alethiometer, you are the one with the case, you should be the one to meet with Midorima.

“It’ll be okay,” Manako says soothingly, perching against the window of the little alcove they found so that she can keep a lookout. Takao wishes he has her confidence; Kimura is going to lead Midorima here any minute now and he still doesn’t know what to say.

It doesn’t matter, Takao finds out, because he can’t get any words out anyway. None except a single, strangled, “Shin-chan.” Because standing in front of him, even though it has been ten years since he last saw him, is someone from Takao’s past that he can never forget. Shin-chan was the first and last person he cried for; he’d waited in that little hovel the two of them shared for three days before finally accepting the fact that Shin-chan was never coming back. But here he is, looking nothing like the little runaway Takao had known; even Amazu, lying docilely in Midorima’s arms as a raccoon, is nothing like the frog form he used to be so found of being.

“I should have guessed,” Midorima says softly. “There are only three alethiometers in existence. The only one I do not know the location of is the one I gave away.”

“I should've guessed too," Takao admits, staring at a point next to Midorima's face. “Who else would care about street rats?”

“You would be surprised,” Midorima says. “The others, even though they don’t understand, they care. I will have you know we are not just investigating because of the intercision angle.”

“The others,” Takao says slowly. “You mean the Generation of Miracles.”

“Yes,” Midorima replies frankly. “Join us, Takao. Help us find the culprit.” As if on cue, Amazu springs out of his arms, stopping in front of Takao and laying his head winsomely on Takao’s foot. Takao can feel himself freeze; in his stead, Manako takes flight, perching on Midorima’s shoulder naturally like she is meant to be there.

“Shin-chan…” Nothing else will come out of Takao’s mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> The daemons were mostly chosen because of stereotypes because I’m boring orz Takao’s is a hawk because I couldn’t give him anything else, and Miyaji and Kimura gets terriers and huskies because there are Japanese breeds.


End file.
